


A Lord of the People of Fingolfin

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Romance, Book: The Children of Húrin, Competition, Crack Treated Seriously, Fatherhood, Fluff and Smut, Love Triangles Resolved With Polyamory, Multi, Pregnancy, Threesome - F/M/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, húrin and his accidental harem of tall goths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29789859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: In which Húrin Thalion meets and woos, with some aplomb, an Elf and a Lady alike.
Relationships: Morwen Eledhwen/Húrin Thalion/Maeglin | Lómion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	A Lord of the People of Fingolfin

**Author's Note:**

> 'But you are kingly,' said she, 'even as the lords of the people of Fingolfin.' -- Finduilas, on Túrin
> 
> okay so uh daphnerunning and i were trying to come up with theories for why túrin looks like a noldo! and we did! and we said "this is completely absurd and oh no it makes sense" and then i wrote it. don't ask why maeglin isn't there when túrin is growing up the answer is Very Sad

_F.A. 459._

The Sun was at its apex when Húrin Thalion returned to the lands of Men.Morwen was up to her elbows in rich, dark soil, sweaty and quietly fuming with anger at the weeds that were trying to take over her vegetable garden.She had been too long in her father’s court, and the garden of her little hut had become quite overgrown.This place, off the beaten track and far up in the mountains, was her haven when life in the great Hall of Ladros became too overwhelming, but she was a grown woman now and it was becoming more and more difficult to escape her duties.Soon, she supposed, her father would begin to speak of marriage.

The thought of this caused her to curse loudly, words that she wasn’t supposed to know.She knew how to behave herself at court if she must, but out here in the wild there was no call to censor herself.

“Why, Lady Eledhwen, surely the earth has not done you _such_ wrong?” said a cheerful voice.Morwen’s breath caught in her throat, for she had not heard that name in several years, not since the Lord of Dor-Lómin had arrived to treat with her father, bringing his son with him.She looked up to see Húrin leaning against her rickety gate, grinning down at her.At his side was a tall, cloaked figure.

As always, confusion made Morwen irritable, and when she was irritable in the company of others, she went cold and distant.“What brings Húrin Thalion unannounced to the lands of Ladros to intrude upon my gardening?” she asked.“And who is his companion?”

She had forgotten how little Húrin seemed to be bothered by her icy moods.She had forgotten how it made her heart rise and thump strangely in her chest when his response to what others called her insufferable rudeness was to grin and shrug.“I have recently come from Elven lands,” Húrin replied, taking her question as it had really been meant, without commenting upon the manner of it.“It seemed best that we not return immediately to Dor-Lómin, for—for safety’s sake.”He gestured at his companion.“No need to be so mysterious, my friend,” he laughed.“The Lady Eledhwen is kind and true.”

Kind.No other man had ever called her kind.Morwen’s cheeks warmed a little, and she sat back on her heels, looking inquiringly at Húrin’s companion.The other seemed to hesitate for an instant, and then he pulled back his hood to reveal, not the rough warrior she had expected, but a slim, dark-eyed Elf with dappled skin and the vaguely haughty, ethereal look of all their kind.

“I am Maeglin,” he said, stiffly, his Taliska halting and accented.“Son of Aredhel the White Lady.”

He intrigued Morwen.What kind of Elf would try to speak a Man’s tongue?What kind of Elf would declare his mother’s name and not his father’s?She got up, dusting off her hands and smoothing down the old skirt she kept for working in the garden.“Well-met, Maeglin, son of Aredhel,” she said, remembering to smile too late, as always.“What brings you both here?”

Maeglin shrugged, his face shuttered.Húrin smiled with the guilty look of a boy caught with hand in the pantry.“I was hoping Maeglin could stay out here for a little time,” he answered.“I must confer with the Lord of Ladros and beg for some supplies, for we encountered misfortune upon the roads and now we do not have enough to carry us all the way to Dor-Lómin.But I would rather not have it said that I am traveling with an Elf Lord, for it might bring unfortunate questions.I knew this place would be empty, or you would be here, and you, my lady, are known for your discretion.”

“Say rather I am known for chilly silences,” Morwen responded dryly, but she nodded.“Very well.Since you ask it, Húrin Thalion, and since your Elf friend tries at least to speak my tongue, I will let him stay here, as a guest of the daughter of the Mannish Lord of Ladros.”

Húrin took her hand in his and brushed his lips over the knuckles, and her breath stopped again.“I knew I could count upon you!” he said.“Thank you, Lady Eledhwen.I will return for him in a few days.”

Both of them watched as he made his way back down the mountain trail, Morwen not without glancing sideways at the way Maeglin’s eyes followed Húrin, his gaze intense.“Who are you to Húrin Thalion?” she asked, as Húrin himself disappeared, his curly head bobbing out of sight down the trail.

“I was—alone,” Maeglin replied curtly.“He befriended me.”

“You want more than friendship,” Morwen accused suddenly, and Maeglin flinched slightly, then, with the kind of effort Morwen knew herself too well, lifted his gaze to hers, burning. 

“As do you.”

“Hm.”She nodded curtly.“It is his choice.”

“Yes.”

“Come and help me with the vegetable garden, then, if it is not too dirty for your pretty Elven hands.”

His gaze dropped again.“I do not dislike Men,” he mumbled, slowly, and then, angrily, “He would not be a, a—I would not have him as a brief—”

“A dalliance?” supplied Morwen.“Good.But I shall not give him up to you without a fight.”

* * *

Despite what stood between them, Maeglin found that he was warming to Morwen.She did not force him into conversation as some folk did—Húrin was much the same, but where Húrin chattered cheerfully and unceasingly without demanding a response, Morwen seemed perfectly happen to exist in comfortable silence.She was also not shy about correcting his Taliska, but all her corrections were useful.If only she was not obviously better suited to Húrin than Maeglin himself—she a Woman, he an Elf, she with living parents, he with a father and a mother he had killed.

It had been utter madness to follow Húrin from out of the walls of Gondolin, but Maeglin had suddenly been swept with an impossible desire not to lose that cheerful smile, the one no one else bestowed upon him with such ease.He had hardly known what he was doing, though at least he had retained enough sense to loudly proclaim his distaste for Húrin’s departure.It would keep Turgon from suspecting anything, even if Maeglin were gone for quite some time.It was not as if he did not sometimes disappear into his own room for weeks or months at a time.

Perhaps that was ungrateful, he thought uncomfortably.Turgon had been kind to him.Idril was a dear friend.But he never felt quite _right_ amongst the Gondolindrim, too easily tired by large crowds, too easily burdened by the heavy stone walls all about him.He had dreamed of Gondolin when he was a child, a haven from harsh words and harsh hands, and it—it was.

But he had not asked to trade his mother for comfort.And he had not asked to trade the freedom of the dappled forest for the safety of stone walls he could not move beyond.So it seemed that it was a sweet madness, at least.

“I am going to ask Húrin when he returns which of us he wants,” Morwen told him bluntly one morning.“I think it will be easier that way.”

Maeglin wrinkled his nose, tightening his hands upon the cup of tea between them, but he nodded.She was right.It would be easier to bear the sorrow if it were clean and did not leave him the festering unpleasantness of not quite having lost hope when he knew he should.He did not think he would have had the strength to ask, but Morwen was bold and never hesitated.She would have made a fearsome warrior.It seemed very foolish that she had been barred from it, but then Men did have children in wartime, so perhaps that was why.

Húrin returned unexpectedly later that very day, riding up the path on a swift, dapple-grey mare, a second horse trotting serenely beside.Maeglin’s stomach twisted and his heart beat rapidly.He would have to go on traveling with Húrin, once all hope had fled.He would have to _know_ that his cheerful companion would never look at him the way Maeglin wanted him to, and the thought made him miserable and angry.He knew he was scowling down at his hands, but he could not help it.

“Why such gloomy faces?” Húrin asked as he flung open the door of the little cottage.“I have returned, is that not cause for rejoicing?”

“You think overmuch of yourself,” Morwen retorted, and Maeglin sank down in his seat, heart beating rabbit-fast in his chest.

“I don’t, you love me,” Húrin replied cheerfully, then crossed to them both and stood at Maeglin’s shoulder, hovering a little.“Truly, has something of ill fortune occurred?I will help, whatever it is.”

“No,” Morwen said, her voice remote and chilly, which Maeglin had already begun to understand meant that she was probably just as nervous as he was, but that she knew how to master herself in a way he did not.“We have a question for you, that is all.”

“Not an ill-omened one, I hope,” Húrin said, sounding a little concerned now.“But please, ask me what you will.”

“Very well.We both love you, Húrin, and we must know—which of us do you love?If either.”

There was a pause.Maeglin could _hear_ how much his breaths caught and turned ragged in his throat and lungs, could hear the rushing pounding roar of blood in his ears.

“Is this a trick question?” Húrin replied, sounding honestly confused.“Or do you both simply wish to hear the sound of my voice? _If either_.Both, of course, I love you both, and dearly.”

“But which of us would you _wed_?” Morwen persisted.“If either.We would rather not hold out false hope.”

 _And now he will say Morwen, for she is beautiful and brave and of his own folk_.

There was a long pause.“Can I not _still_ say both?” Húrin asked, sounding rather plaintive.“I admit I have not heard of anything like it, but how often do our folk wed with the Elves in any case?Why should it not be both?”He sounded almost petulant, like a child being asked to choose between two favorite treats, and Maeglin’s heart swelled and thudded in his chest.

This seemed to set Morwen back apace.“I, well,” she said, sounding nonplussed for the first time.

“If you two do not like each other, I suppose that might cause some trouble,” Húrin admitted.

“No,” Maeglin blurted.“We do.I like Morwen.”

“He’s tolerable,” Morwen said with a shrug.“Both of you are.”

“Well, then.”Húrin grinned at them.“If that’s properly settled, do you think I could sit in someone’s lap and get a kiss?Since you both love me so dearly.”

Morwen and Maeglin exchanged an awkward, blushing glance, and then they both nodded.

* * *

_Four years later._

The firelight gleamed on Húrin and Morwen’s bare shoulders, and Maeglin bit his lip as he listened to their sighs and soft moans.He had ridden hard the day before to reach Dor-Lómin in time for the summons to their wedding, and he had not quite known what to expect, had not quite known if he would be welcomed as he had been before.

He should have trusted both of them more.

He kissed Húrin’s throat softly as both his lovers moved.Húrin moaned, loud and wanton; Morwen was, as always, quieter, taking a soft, shuddering breath as she adjusted her position in Húrin’s lap.Maeglin could not see the place where they were joined, for none of them had waited long enough to fully disrobe, and Morwen’s white skirts spread across them both.Húrin had pulled her dress open and down, and she was naked from the waist up, slim and pale and lovely, her black hair spilling down across her shoulders.

Maeglin leaned forward and massaged one breast as Húrin took the other in his mouth, and Morwen’s eyes opened.He halted as her eyes flashed, but she only put a strong hand in his hair and twisted, as if it were the roots of a stubborn weed.Maeglin gasped and moaned against Húrin’s neck, rutting against his back.

Húrin murmured, “My beautiful Eledhwen,” and then, groaning as Maeglin let his other hand fall to toy with a nipple, “ah, my lovely Gwathdil.”

“So talkative, as always,” Morwen said.“If you are coherent, we are not trying hard enough.”

Húrin laughed, his hips rocking, his hands stroking at her shoulders.“It is not so easy to reduce me to incoherence,” he retorted.“After all, I am known for my golden tongue.”

Morwen kissed him, still twisting her hand in Maeglin’s hair and making it hard for him to track anything else that was going on.He was hard and aching, but it was almost a distant sensation.He watched the other two through lidded eyes, the motions they made as Húrin thrust and Morwen rolled her hips in answer.“You know I will not refuse a challenge,” whispered Morwen as she broke the kiss.“Maeglin, put your fingers inside him.”

Words failed to reach Maeglin’s tongue, but he moaned his assent, stumbling dizzily off the bed to find the vial of oil he remembered seeing on the bedside table.He grabbed it and hurriedly got himself back onto the bed before his knees gave out, nearly spilling it when he opened it with shaking hands.Somehow he managed to get it onto his hands, letting his slick hand ghost down Húrin’s back.Húrin’s shirt was unbuttoned and off his shoulders, but it still clung to his sweaty back, for he had not bothered to shrug it off completely.He made a breathy noise as Maeglin’s hand caressed him beneath it, a noise that went high and eager as Maeglin pushed a finger inside him.

“There,” Maeglin heard his own voice saying from very far away.“How’s that?Is that good?”

“ _Good_ ,” Húrin groaned.“ _Yes_.”Maeglin kissed him, kissing down the bumps of his spine, pressing the finger in deeper.

“Another finger,” Morwen said, her voice breathy but still commanding.“I am sure it will not impact your ability to speak, my love.”Maeglin’s other hand reached out blindly and landed on her thigh, scrabbling and bunching in her skirts as he added the second finger, delving deeply inside Húrin, feeling him tighten and twitch about the intrusion.

“ _Mmmnnn—Maeglin_ ,” gasped Húrin.“ _Morwen_ — _aaaahhh_ —”

“Do you have s-something you wish to s-say?” Morwen demanded.She was moving insistently up and down, and Maeglin whined as well, desperate for a touch, gentle or harsh—anything.Anything.

“Oh, love,” Húrin managed.Then, as Maeglin crooked his fingers the way he knew would touch the deep, secret spot inside him, he gave a ragged cry and, thrusting upwards once more, stilled, his muscles twitching about Maeglin’s fingers.Maeglin pressed his face against Húrin’s side and drank in the scent of his sweat, feeling the muscles of his abdomen contracting as well.

Slowly, Húrin relaxed, one hand falling onto Maeglin’s head.Maeglin made a soft, pleading little noise.Perhaps he could use his mouth upon their lady?He did not know if she had climaxed yet, but Húrin had come quickly, so it was likely she had not.He opened his mouth, pushing himself forward a little in hopes that he was being understandable, knowing he probably wasn’t.

Morwen’s fingers pressed into his mouth, and he lapped at them eagerly, sucking on them as Húrin’s thick hand ran gently through his hair.She made a pleased humming noise.“Maeglin, lie down on your back on the bed.”Húrin laughed softly.

“One of us not enough to satisfy you, Eledhwen mine?”

There was the sound of a sharp slap—Morwen’s hand on Húrin’s face.He panted raggedly.

“And whose fault is that?” Morwen asked archly.Then there was the sound of a kiss.

“It is true,” Húrin said mildly.“I am afraid your sweet warmth made short work of me, intensified by _someone’s_ clever fingers. Maeglin, come along; our lady has need of you.”

He and Morwen rose, both of them standing shakily.Maeglin obeyed the instruction, crawling quickly along the bed so that he might lie back upon it, looking up a little inquiringly at the both of them.Morwen often sat upon his mouth, for she said he had a clever tongue, and he loved the feel of her on it, as much as he loved to take Húrin’s thick cock when that was desirable.Morwen loomed over him, the firelight still playing on her lovely breasts, now gleaming with a sheen of sweat.She put one knee on either side of him and then she was kissing him, and Húrin’s hand was back in his hair.Maeglin moaned, reaching out and then halting, for he had not been told to touch her.

“You can touch,” Morwen told him, and he reached out and cupped her breasts, drawing a soft noise from her throat as his thumbs brushed across the stiff peaks of her nipples.“Look, Húrin, look how good he is.Not like you.”

Húrin chuckled, and his lips brushed the top of Maeglin’s forehead.“It’s true, I’m afraid.But both of you love me anyway.”

“Aye,” Morwen agreed.Then, harshly, as she spoke when she was nervous, “Who could fail to love you, Húrin?”She rubbed herself along Maeglin’s stomach, and he whimpered at the wetness of it, her slick and Húrin’s seed trailing along him and marking him indelibly.

“Maeglin,” Morwen said, after a moment.“Maeglin, do not get lost behind your eyes.I want you inside me.”

He whimpered slightly.He had not thought—he had thought that would be reserved for Húrin.Some vague nameless terror tugged at him, but Morwen’s dark eyes were steady and would not be gainsayed, and he had no real desire to gainsay her in any case.Nodding, he bit his lip.His cock ached, hard and heavy, between his legs.

“Good.”She spoke sharply, as she often did, her straightforwardness a cool breeze on Maeglin’s mind.He had ridden hard from Gondolin, where every word was laden with another meaning, and Morwen’s simplicity and Húrin’s cheer were soothing.Were easy—effortless.He could just _be_ with them, and, to his surprise, the thought made his eyes fill with sudden tears.He could not remember the last time he had been able to cry so.He reached back and took Húrin’s hand in his as Morwen began to lower herself down.

She was slick and warm and tight about him, and he heard himself giving a cracked moan, his hips hitching up a little to meet her.Then he was fully inside her, and she was rocking her hips against his, and the slick and heat were like nothing he had ever felt, nothing he had ever imagined.Her nails pricked at his overheated chest, drawing lines of pain down him.Húrin’s hand was moving in his hair again, and Maeglin gasped, imagining himself as their canvas, for them to paint upon whatever they chose.

“Let me fuck you,” Morwen gasped.“Help me fuck Húrin’s seed back into me.”

Maeglin gasped in his turn and whined and nodded.

“Oh, you are both so lovely,” Húrin murmured, one hand steadily combing through Maeglin’s hair as the other held Maeglin’s hand with care.“My two raven-haired beauties.”

The look of determined arousal faltered for half a moment on Morwen’s face, her mouth parting slightly.Maeglin could not tell what it was that she was thinking, but Húrin was right to name her beauty.Her chest heaved, a red flush spreading across it to match the one upon her cheeks, and her eyes flashed, and her heavy curls of hair lay tumbled across her bare shoulders.Her round, peaked breasts bounced slightly as she rode him, her skirts covering both of them.

Rolling his hips up to meet hers, Maeglin bit his lip to stop himself from slipping away.Morwen had told him not to get lost behind his eyes, and he knew it would be easy, with the haze of warm pleasure settling across him, the sheer impossible bliss of being inside her.

“Good,” Morwen panted.“Mmmm— _good_.But I need a hand as well.”She tugged at the hand he was currently using to cup at her breast and pushed it down insistently.“Damn these skirts.”

Húrin chuckled and helped her ruck them up, and now Maeglin _could_ see where they were joined, and he had to shut his eyes hurriedly because the sight of himself disappearing inside Morwen was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

Biting the inside of his lip, he let the other two guide his hand down so he could rub it between the inside of her legs, feeling the slick swollen heat of her, and listening to the long moan Morwen gave in answer.He was not so unused to darkness; his ears were sharp, and that and the feeling of thrusting into her as she rocked back against his fingers and down to meet his cock were more than enough. He heard her kissing Húrin, and his eyes filled again, for the second time that night, and again he did not even know why.

He had heard them say, in Gondolin, that to bed another did not mean the same for Men as for Elves.He did not know if it was true; for a long time, he had feared that if he reached for another in such a manner, they would see the darkness that lay across his past.Or he had feared that he must follow in father’s footsteps and take that which was not freely given.But he knew that for Húrin and Morwen it meant something special to take him here like this, and did it really matter if it was _the same_?It was still good.

Morwen was still fucking him hard, and Húrin was leaning down to kiss him now.He sobbed into Húrin’s mouth, swirling his fingers in the delicate circles he knew she enjoyed.She was, as always, mostly silent, and Húrin was talking enough for the both of them, now, telling Maeglin he was doing well, he was beautiful, brilliant; that he was serving his lady just as she liked; that she was close—close—

“Like that,” Morwen gritted out, and she bore down heavily on his hand, her walls contracting around him.He grunted out something that might have been her name in response, biting his lip again as hard as he could, because he did not know if she wanted him to climax yet.

“Was that good?” Húrin murmured.

“Yes—yes,” Morwen panted tightly. Maeglin let his eyes flutter open to see she looked stunned and flushed and almost pliant.He found that he was smiling, a small, shy little smile, and Morwen reflected it back at him.

“What would you like me to do, lady?” he whispered, swallowing hard and just managing to get the words out.

“He speaks,” laughed Húrin.“I thought for certain you had fucked him into silence.”

“It seems I have failed at that with both of you tonight,” Morwen said, but she did not sound displeased.“I would like—” And that shy smile turned a little wicked, sending a hot thrill through Maeglin from belly to bone, “Spend thyself inside me, Maeglin Aredhelion, let thy seed mingle with Húrin’s.”

A soft whimper dropped from his lips, and he flailed his hands to grasp at her thighs as he obeyed the order immediately, groaning at the way darkness swirled before his vision at the intensity of the release—

_He sees black steel and hears it scream.Lightning flashes; the wind howls.There is red-stained gold upon the black earth.A child is crying, long and wailing and wordless._

Maeglin’s eyes snapped open to find that Morwen was sitting beside him, staring at him intensely, while Húrin worriedly repeated his name, holding his hand.“Maeglin?What—are you all right?”

His heart was pounding, as if he’d been running.As if he’d been hiding from—he took a long, shuddering breath.

“Yes, I—yes, I am sorry.It—” He swallowed.“It is only something that happens to my folk at times,” he finished lamely, because if he did not name it _foresight_ , then perhaps it would not be.He pressed his face into Húrin’s thigh for a moment, gathering himself.“I haven’t ruined it, have I?” he asked, knowing he sounded terribly childlike.

Húrin kissed his forehead.“As if you could.”

Morwen’s hand squeezed his shoulder.“You haven’t ruined anything.You’ve been good for us.”

* * *

The baby did not cry, but lay in Morwen’s arms and blinked at Húrin with solemn, dark eyes.He waved his foot slightly, then his arms.He was so _tiny_ , Húrin marveled, bending down to make soft, crooning noises and tickle him gently under the chin.“Look!You made this!” he said to Morwen.

“I did,” she agreed.Húrin kissed the baby’s little head.

“He looks like you,” he said, tracing his fingers over the little ears.

Someone knocked on the door of the bedchamber.“My lord,” one of the servants said, poking her head in.“There is, um, a very agitated, very tall Elf in the front hall.Did—did you send for—”

“Oh, he _made it_!” Húrin exclaimed delightedly.“I had no idea if the messenger bird would get there in time!”

“You sent for Maeglin?” Morwen asked.

“Of course I sent for Maeglin!”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed if the message didn’t reach him.Come on, love, let’s take Túrin down to meet his—”

“Godfather,” Morwen cut him off, her dark eyes flickering to the servant waiting for them.Oh, perhaps that was a little more politic than the “other father” that had risen to Húrin’s lips.He nodded cheerfully and then steered her out the door, putting one hand about her waist to hold her steady.For once, she didn’t protest, but leaned exhaustedly against him.

When they reached the hall, they found Maeglin pacing back and forth, the hood of his cloak flung back.He was so tall he must have had to stoop to make his way beneath the lintel of the door, and several of their household were staring, rather.

“My lord Maeglin,” Morwen said, before Húrin could dart forward and greet him, which was probably for the best.Maeglin looked up, those dark, still eyes fearful; then he took a shaky step towards them and paused, looking pleading but unsure.

“Come meet Túrin,” Húrin told him, gesturing, trying to decide what Morwen would want him to say.

“You are welcome in our halls,” Morwen said formally.“Please, come and take counsel with us.”Probably that.Well, now she had said it herself.

They took him back to the bedchambers, where Morwen sank onto the bed with a grateful sigh.“Maeglin, come here,” she instructed, and when he hurried to her side, she laid Túrin gently into his arms.He made a very soft, very terrified little noise.Túrin waved his arms happily and tried to make a grab for Maeglin’s long hair.

“Look what Morwen made!” Húrin said cheerfully, hurrying over.“Oh, and we helped.”

“I,” Maeglin said, then stalled, as if he had lost track of what he wanted to say.He looked thoroughly terrified.Then, several moments later, as Túrin made a soft, cooing, gurgling noise, “ _How_.”

Morwen rolled up on one elbow on the bed.“I rather think you helped more than Húrin did.Not that I mind, but—do you know—what it might mean for a child to have Elven blood?”

Maeglin’s dark eyes got very wide, and he shook his head, looking helpless.Húrin let Túrin grab his finger and made cooing noises back at him.“You’re both fussing too much,” he said.“He’s perfect.Why does it matter?We’ll find out anyway.”

“It matters,” Morwen said sharply, “Because he is your _heir_ , Húrin, and if he is very obviously—if people think he is not, it will cause difficulties.”

“Well, he is,” Húrin said, with a shrug.“If he does not look like me, he looks like you.”He grinned at both of them.“Fortunately, I am very specific with my interests.”

Morwen sighed heavily.“I need some sleep,” she said grimly.“I am very tired after birthing the child.”The child itself chose that exact moment to start crying, and Morwen groaned. 

Although he flinched, Maeglin did not immediately thrust Túrin back at her as Húrin had half expected.Instead, he looked up with a serious, faintly awed look in his blue-flecked black eyes.“Should I sing to him?” he murmured.“There is an old lullaby that my mother used to sing to me.”

“Oh, do,” Húrin begged, taking the chance to snuggle up to Maeglin’s elbow and kiss his cheek.

“Yes, do,” Morwen agreed, lying back upon her pillows.“I would like to hear a lullaby myself.”

A soft light appeared in Maeglin’s eyes.“All right,” he murmured.He seated himself carefully on the edge of the bed.Cooing softly, wordlessly at the baby, he rocked him gently back and forth as he began to sing.

_Beneath the earth the moles are digging_

_Above the sky proud ravens fare_

_I can hear the shadows singing_

_They will keep you safe, my dear._

_Darkness cloaks the earth around us_

_Owls fly on silent wing_

_Night is still but not unkind, love_

_To my arms you it will bring._

Túrin’s sobs collapsed into a series of little gurgling noises.Húrin glanced over to see that Morwen was sleeping already, profoundly, deeply, one arm flung up carelessly onto the pillow, the dark locks of her hair framing her face.She was lovely, the mother of their child.

“He likes you,” Húrin whispered in Maeglin’s ear.“Look at that.Did you ever think that you would be a father?”

An expression of sheer panic flitted across Maeglin’s face.“I can’t,” he hissed.“What if I _hurt_ him!”

“Don’t be silly.”Húrin patted his shoulder affectionately.“You’re not going to hurt him.Morwen didn’t even have to tell you how to hold him.You’re a natural.”

Something lurked in those proud, dark eyes, but Húrin was not certain what it was.Then they seemed to clear a little.“Do you really think he likes me?” Maeglin murmured, timid, eager.

“Of course I do,” Húrin replied staunchly.“Give him your finger.”

“What?”

“Like this.”Húrin took Maeglin’s finger and pushed it at the baby, who immediately grasped at it with his tiny hand.“See?He likes you.”

“Oh…” Maeglin sniffed.“Oh, Húrin.”

“There now.”Húrin stroked the Elf’s hair out of his eyes.“You’re tired, too; you must have ridden hard to get here when you did.”He leaned forward and brushed his lips over Maeglin’s; Túrin made an insulted little noise, perhaps angry at being ignored.“Let’s all rest,” he said.“And when Morwen’s awake, we can go have dinner, and we can all spend more time with the little one.Cuddles are an important part of romance _and_ child-rearing.”

Maeglin nodded.“I’ll be here for you.I’ll be here for him,” he murmured.“I never thought—but I can do this.I can.I will.”

“Of course you will, my love,” Húrin agreed.The love in Maeglin's face spoke for itself—who would think to doubt it?


End file.
